A Stay At Home Dad

Yesterday was a good day. We got to the Scout camp site around 3:30 and the rest of the day flew by. The boy and his friends ran around all afternoon, the parents all mingled and relaxed. Based on my experiences with it so far, group camping is about as good as it gets for parents. Infinite diversions and distractions for kids, none of them the electronic variety, along with low opportunities for getting in trouble.

About the only form of trouble that does come up is the inevitable friction that comes with being in close quarters with other personalities. But that’s a strength as well, since they have to figure out how to cope and make nice. Plus, other parents can usually step in a smooth the flare-ups over without too much fuss.

After dinner, the Order of the Arrow showed up and performed a graduation ceremony for the various dens. It’s a hokey ceremony, as these things go. The Boy Scouts show up dressed in Indian garb, excuse me, Native American garb and they recite some poetry. Then, I hand the earned rank badges to the head Akela and he in turn hands it to the Cub Scout.

But it works. The boys are quiet and attentive the whole time and the ceremony is done in 15 minutes tops. The parents all enjoy it was well. A fun thing on a good day.

After that, it’s more running around followed by s’mores followed by more running around and the night for the boys ends with some songs by the campfire, as well as a skit where I’m the butt of the joke. I and another parent are human props holding a stick to act as a counter at a store. “Customers” come up one at a time and ask the clerk for candy, who tells them that he doesn’t have that kind of candy. Finally, the last customer comes up asks “Well, what do you have?” The clerk answers “Two suckers on a stick” and points at me and the other parent. Rimshot.

I stay up a bit later to help clean up while the boy goes down for the night around 10. By the time I’m done and the fire has finally died down, he’s fast asleep in the tent. So I settle down to join him.

Then, he’s awake and it’s early morning. He’s on top of me and shaking me saying “Dad!” in an urgent but hushed voice to get my attention. I shake off cob webs enough to acknowledge I’m not asleep anymore. I check my watch, it’s 4:30.

He says “Happy Father’s Day!” Then scampers off to the bathroom.

With only 4 days of school left, the boy received a homework assignment tonight involving his spelling words. He won’t be tested on them, as he took the test for them last week.

But this particular homework assignment has a writing element to it. He’s supposed to write something about a visiting a relative who lives far away. He’s got plenty of material to choose from, but the catch is he has to use 4 of the 10 spelling words.

He finally stopped crying after a marathon tear-fest of what seemed like hours. In reality, it was more like 15 or 20 minutes, which is still 15 or 20 minutes too long. The Wife and I both told him to step away and calm down. But he was inconsolable. We’re talking full-on balling, snuffling, sucking, tears and snot. All over a small writing assignment.

“I can’t do it….” he snuffled.

“Can somebody heeeelp ME?!?” he whined.

“This is hhhaard…” he cried.

In between there was the bleating and other sounds of sobbing. Unbelievable.

Maybe I should make him write a blog post. But first I’d better put some water protection over the keyboard.

Somewhere along the way, in the boy’s developing sense of how the Universe is supposed to spin, he got it in his head that “older” equals “better.” Now, the Grandparents out there might largely agree with that assessment, but the boy has been ruthlessly applying this reasoning when comparing himself and his sister.

He hates losing to her because “he’s older and should win because older people are supposed to win.” And he hates her knowing things that he doesn’t because “when you’re older, you’re supposed to know more stuff than younger people.” He also hates the idea that she’s learning to read because she’s been getting better at it faster than he did. Never mind the fact that he’s still a better reader right now because of practice.

I’m aware that part of his reasoning surely comes from his comparing himself to the Wife and I. The most obvious difference, besides the physical ones anyway, is we are much older than him. But his generalization of the concept to the extreme he’s taking it is just… odd. It’s not something the Wife and I have ever tried to emphasize.

I suppose that’s not entirely true. When it has come up, it’s usually been in the form of trying to explain to him why he needs to be careful when rough-and-tumbling with his sister, or when he expects her to be capable of something simply because he is. But that’s a long way from telling him that his poop doesn’t stink because he was born 18 months earlier than his sister. And trust me, it stinks (and still clogs toilets).

I suppose it could be as simple as he hasn’t learned that there aren’t many “rules” in life that aren’t broken at one point or another. Big people are clumsy and dumb, except when they’re not. Little people are annoying, except when they’re not. Older people are better at everything that younger people, except when they’re not. The point being, of course, that they aren’t really rules to begin with. Rather, they’re erroneous conclusions based on small sampling size (except for small people being annoying, that one’s true). Try explaining that to an 8 year-old.

Maybe when he gets a little older, he’ll understand that.

The boy may be well on his way to having his father’s feet. The Wife discovered that she can basically fit her feet in his new flip flops. He’s now in a size 6.

Still a ways to go before he catches me though.